


Twice Shy

by Scarecrowqueen



Series: Gift Fics Xmas 2013 [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Canon Temporary Character Death, Gift Fic, Human!Jack, M/M, Pre-Movie(s), Pre-Slash, Romance Implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarecrowqueen/pseuds/Scarecrowqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in my series of gift fics.</p><p>'Wiping the snow off of his face with a scowl, it takes Aster a moment to notice two things; firstly, that the culprit is standing just off to his right, looking very surprised and noticeably contrite.  Secondly, the fact that the culprit looks surprised and contrite at all means that Aster can be seen.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twice Shy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayasurin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayasurin/gifts).



> Gift fic for the lovely Kayasurin, who asked for 'pre-movie Jack and Bunny; Jack meets Bunny while still human.' Hope you enjoy, Kaya!

The snowball that hit Aster in the side of the head came without any warning. Well, obviously without warning, or it wouldn’t have hit him at all. His finely-honed battle instincts may have been slightly dulled by decades of relative peace, but he was still sharp enough to react to an incoming projectile. Of course, he’s just wrapping up the final leg of the Americas on his Easter route, so he can’t really be blamed for his noticeable exhaustion and distraction. Wiping the snow off of his face with a scowl, it takes Aster a moment to notice two things; firstly, that the culprit is standing just off to his right, looking very surprised and noticeably contrite. Secondly, the fact that the culprit looks surprised and contrite at all means that Aster can be seen. Not that being seen was the worst thing on earth; in fact letting a particularly curious child catch a quick glimpse was often a great way to help perpetuate his myth and build on his belief base. Standing there like a total oaf with a face full of snowflakes was another thing entirely though, and Aster felt a small bit of his dignity die. 

Blinking that last of the cold wetness from his eyes, Aster takes in the boy. He’s about 10 or so summers old, by Aster’s somewhat inexpert estimation. Old enough to be taking on some of the more adult responsibilities, but young enough that an Easter Sunday snowball fight would not be remiss. He has a mess of ruffled brown hair, and his eyes are a warm chocolate colour, deep and inviting, and Aster imagines the kid will be a right proper heartbreaker given a comb and another few years to grow. The boy must be cold however, Aster figures, taking in the shocked, awed, and hurriedly apologizing figure. Far too skinny, without a proper overcoat and clothes patched in more than one place, Aster can only assume that the boy’s family is on hard times; a state not uncommon to the settlers in this new frontier. All the more reason for Aster to be doing what he’s doing; bringing hope and the promise of spring. 

“It's fine, kid. No need to trouble yourself. Got a good arm though, I do say.” Aster isn’t lying about that; the snowball had hurt, after all. “Just, watch the aim a mite, you’re overshooting your targets, yeah?” The boy blushes then, honest to god blushes a bright, adorable red. He stutters out another apology, eyes wide with no small amount of awe, and Aster finds it in himself to dredge up a genuine smile despite his weariness. Double-tapping the ground with a foot, he lets his tunnel carry him away; he still has more ground to cover before he can rest properly, after all. The image of the boy stays with him though, even after the work is done and he returns to the Warren to curl up in his nest and drift to sleep.

 

The next two years offer quiet enough Easter’s; meaning nothing goes wrong, or out of the ordinary. Aster tells himself he isn’t just a little bit disappointed. Nothing wrong means things went smoothly; children were satisfied, and Aster’s belief base grew in proportion. Smooth sailing meant that Aster didn’t see the boy again, however. It shouldn’t have mattered at all, there were thousands of kids receiving Aster’s gifts every year, the one with the good arm and bad aim was nothing special. Yet, Aster couldn’t deny that the boy was the longest conversation he’d had with someone other than himself, his eggs, or his sentinels in many years. Guardians were busy; they didn’t often have time to visit each other, and the years in between tended to stretch out long and silent. Aster had never minded before, but that handful of sentences had cracked him open wide, and now the quiet solitude of the Warren seemed harsh and cruel. Aster was seriously giving a thought to popping in on North of all people, when he realized he recognized this town. It had gotten larger over the last couple of years, but he remembered it well. The boy was here somewhere, likely rooting about through the last dregs of snow for the eggs Aster had just hid. Aster turned to leave, knowing that he shouldn’t be dallying, that he had many more stops yet and time was wasting, but the thought of seeing the boy again, of talking to him once more was tantalizing. Aster made it three steps deeper into the woods when a cracking branch had him leaping round, hand on a boomerang and ready to defend himself if needed. Instead, his green eyes met a very familiar brown pair, and he relaxed almost involuntary. The boy had grown taller, although no wider. His clothes appeared to be in no better repair, but he had a proper coat this time about his shoulders. His face was light with a joy that Aster did not quite understand, although perhaps it could be assumed that the boy was as eager to see him again, too.

“It’s you! I mean, it really is! I looked and looked these past couple springs, but I did not see you; were you hiding?” The boy stumbles as he comes closer; caused by the boots he is wearing, which appear too large and are possibly hand-me-downs from a father or older brother. The boy recovers, giving Aster a sheepish smile. Thoroughly charmed by the boy’s antics, Aster replies easily.

“I’m not actually supposed to be seen, so yeah, you could say I was hiding. You must be special, to have caught me twice now.” Aster’s tone was light and joking to let the boy know that he wasn’t going to hold it against him. “Have a good run of it this year?”

The boy nodded, flush with excitement. “Oh yes, so did my little sister!” The child’s proud grin is unmistakable, and Aster knows without asking that this boy totally and completely adores said younger sibling. He finds his heart warming further for this sweet, sincere young man. The world would be a better place if all people loved so truly. The clock is ticking though, and as much as Aster longs to stay and coax more conversation out of the child, he isn’t yet done his work, and apologizes to the boy, explaining as much. The boy’s smile falls, but he nods, understanding.

“Be careful, Mister Bunny. I’ll see you next year maybe?” The hope in that sentence dances on all Asters’ senses, young and pure and true.

“Keep a good eye son, if you can spot me, we’ll speak again.” Aster grins as he issues his challenge, delighted by the boy’s wide, beaming smile, and knowing as he summons a tunnel and makes his exit that next year, he might just move a little slower than normal, when passing through this particular town.

 

Four more Easter’s pass this way; with Aster allowing the boy to catch him for but a few short moments and the boy continues to be as utterly enthralling in his genuine good-nature. Aster had forgotten what it felt like, the anticipation of seeing someone again, of having a date to keep and something to look forward to. Of course he looked forward to every Easter, but this was different; this was five minutes a year that Aster took solely for his own pleasure, with no other motivation besides his desire to make a friend. The boy for his part seemed equally enthusiastic about seeing Aster when he did, going as far as playfully tossing snowballs at him in greeting. Aster had long since imagined going out on other days to visit; days when he could spend all the time he wanted just talking about whatever they chose, but he always found reasons to hold back. It wouldn’t do to get too attached after all; the boy was mortal and would sooner than not grow past believing in legends; aging until his body finally failed him entirely. Aster could feel the pain of that thought even now, and although he knew it was the natural way of things, a part of him railed against it. He had been alone for a long time, with his handful of friends so busy and distant and the rest of his people dead and long since buried. A more constant companion would be a much welcomed addition to his routine, but Aster was too pragmatic for such fanciful things as wishes. It was with a heavy heart that the Pooka decided that this year’s visit would be the last. The boy was edging in adulthood now, the time of childish things long past, and while Aster could still see the youthful energy about him, it was obvious that mature responsibility would soon win out over all else. Already, the way the boy spoke of his younger sister and mother told Aster all he needed to know about the boy’s dedication to their happiness and safety in the wake of his father’s passing. The boy was becoming a man, and Aster needed to make the break now, or risk being left behind.

Stupid, selfish Pooka, wanting more than he could reasonably expect to be allowed to have! Aster glancing longingly at the Moon, only just visible in the light of day, feeling the wish bubble up within himself, but clamping it down. He would not trouble MiM with his foolishness. What could the other spirit do, anyways? Sighing, Aster got to work, counting down the moments until his friend appeared.

When he did, Aster felt his breath catch. The boy was taller once again, still skinny as ever, but with a hint of broadness to his once-narrow shoulders. The lines of his face were sharper, more mature, and his eyes held knowledge beyond what a child would bear. In Aster’s absence it had happened; the boy had become a man. Aster froze, voice stuck in his throat, but his friend didn’t appear to mind, drifting into Aster’s arms for a hug, something he’d never done before. Aster responded without thinking, drawing the warm body in tight and close. The boy smelled like winter and something rich that Aster couldn’t identify. The embrace ends too soon, and Aster misses the youth’s warmth the moment he steps back.

“I didn’t know if you’d come this year! All the others my age have long stopped believing me when I talk about you. I was afraid maybe they were right, that I’d imagined it all...” The relief in the boy’s tone is palpable, and Aster is hasty to reassure him.

“I’m here, I came.” Aster doesn’t mention that he intends this to be the last visit, he’s not sure he could bear the boy’s hurt and dismay. “I’m glad you waited, even though you weren’t sure.” This at least is true; Aster is incredibly thankful he got the chance to say one final goodbye. The boy smiles disarmingly, taking Aster’s hands in his.

“I will always wait for you! You are my overlarge nameless rabbit friend, of course!” The boy teases, and Aster can’t help but laugh, stomach twisting in grief and guilt. MiM help him, for what he is about to do to this boy.

“Aster. My name is Aster.” The boy’s smile somehow brightens even further, like a beacon to guide Aster home.

“Jack! I’m very pleased to finally have a proper introduction.” Aster laughs again, drawing the boy reverently into his arms on a whim. He snuffles his nose into Jack’s dark hair, the crown of the boys head fitting neatly under his chin. The younger man is wild and sweet and alive in his arms, and a part of him never wants to let go. He does though, reluctantly, but Jack catches his hands again before he can make his planned escape.

“Thank you,” Jack says, his grin a gentle devastation, “I’m glad we met, and gladder that you came back, all these years. You were always something to look forward too, even through the hardest of winters.” Jack’s eyes are wide, sincere, and Aster feels himself choke a little on the lump in his throat.

“No matter how bitter the winter is, spring will always come, Jack. Just you watch.” Offering one last smile and without another word, Aster steps back and leaves, watching the boy’s face for as long as he possibly can. The thoughts of ‘please’ and ‘I want’ get tangled up in his chest as he turns away from Jack for the last time, but what else can Aster do but curse his own ridiculousness. He’s held the boy back this long already; all children must grow up eventually, who was he to interfere in the natural order any longer?

 

Aster does not see Jack the next year, and does not linger trying to, despite the temptation to do so. He assumes the boy has managed let go of him; has finally grown into the wonderful man that his youth had promised he’d be, and hopes for only the best for his erstwhile friend. Aster doesn’t know that Jack is weeks into his watery grave by that point, his tiny remaining family still in mourning. That they will meet again centuries later and still remain unrecognizable to each other for decades after that is also unknown to Aster. When they do finally find their way to one another again though, Aster will suddenly understand that his unvoiced wish was somehow heard, and he will know enough this time to never, ever, EVER let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted to Fanfiction.net and my Dreamwidth


End file.
